


sick of the chase, hungry for blood

by weeniewife



Series: choking like a dog on a collar [1]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses, Fire Emblem: Soen no Kiseki/Akatsuki no Megami | Fire Emblem Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Dysfunctional Relationships, Friendship/Love, Gen, Hallucinations, Hospitalization, Mental Breakdown, Minor Violence, Progress is not linear, Running Away, Self-Harm, and there was only one bed, i just wanted the tag to exist. maybe one day, i really wanted to tag haar/rodrigue im so sorry, no beta we die like Glenn, they arent major at all, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:21:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26211100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weeniewife/pseuds/weeniewife
Summary: Sylvain came home to the door open and holes in the walls of the apartment. Now Dimitri and Felix are missing, and he has no choice but to expect the worst. With the help of his friends, he's going to have to find the both of them.[everyone's living in the same apartment complex au]
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Dorothea Arnault/Ingrid Brandl Galatea, Felix Hugo Fraldarius & Sylvain Jose Gautier, Haar (fire emblem)/Rodrigue Achille Fraldarius
Series: choking like a dog on a collar [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1903549
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8
Collections: apartment au!





	1. hoping that you like how you're living

**Author's Note:**

> This is explicitly part of the AU! please read the FAQ for any answers to your questions if you're interested. If not, some things may be a little confusing but that's okay! The characters are all the same and it's in a modern setting, so that's all that really matters when it comes down to it.
> 
> This is a trigger warning for both self harm and for Dimitri's terrible mental state! Please use caution when reading!
> 
> Ships are mostly background but Dimivain is absolutely happening. It's pre-dimisylvix, but. It'll take Felix a while to warm up to Dimitri after this.

_ “What.” _

“You can feel people’s feelings and read minds and things like that, right?” Ingrid asked, her face pinched as if she’d never smiled in her life. Sylvain hovered behind her like a child afraid to ask his mother for something. It was as though they had been through the motions a million times before.

“I… yes?” It was late. The artificial lighting made it easier to see and harder to focus. Reyson was half-asleep, though he had found it difficult to rest that night. “May I ask why you’re questioning me at such an hour?”

“There’s been an incident, and thought that maybe you could help us find - “

“Dimitri is missing,” Sylvain croaked.

“I suppose that would be why I’ve been feeling awful.”

“Felix is also missing. But we have confidence in the fact he can take care of himself. Dimitri, however…”

“…You know how he is. He’s unstable. I came home to things not looking so good and the door open.”

“I do not know how you intend to use  _ me  _ to find him.” The heron had already made up his mind that he would do anything in his power to aid them, yet truly… how did these beorc plan on utilizing his power for such a thing?

“He’s going to be feeling terrible, completely sick with guilt for… uh, what I found. Would you be able to sense if he was around?”

“I suppose? Though it would hardly be pleasant for me to be around him in such a time.”

Somehow, despite knowing he was going to likely be sick by the end of it, the pair convinced the laguz to come along. They bickered back and forth as they went down the stairs about things he wasn’t quite paying attention to, though he could feel there was no true malice behind either of their words.

_ “He won’t FIT in your car very comfortably, think clearly. Thea’s already waiting.” _

_ “But mine’s much faster, and we wouldn’t have to focus as much, and -” _

Sylvain’s phone went off as they reached the garage, and his free hand tugged at his hair after he answered it. “I don’t know. I really don’t. I don’t usually even ask.”

Ingrid opened the car door for Reyson, trying her best not to touch any of his feathers or close one inside as she helped him inside.

“Oh, thank you so much, Rey! You have no idea how much just having you with us is going to help them. Sorry cars weren’t made for your big, pretty wings.”

“I have managed in tighter quarters.” Maybe he  _ was  _ a bit claustrophobic, but he knew these people had no ill intentions. Reyson was not being placed into a box to be sold or worse. He knew of Ingrid’s overprotectiveness, of Sylvain’s heart that contradicted the reputation he seemed to have, of Dorothea’s desire to keep the two of them at peace in their time of need. If Dimitri was in trouble, Reyson truly wanted to do all he could. He  _ was  _ the first to discover the heron and though he questioned his reality for the first part of their friendship… he was always  _ kind.  _ Immediately. No questions asked about that.

Just as everyone else in this world had been.

Dimitri might have kept an obvious crush as well. But unlike others who were ‘captivated by his beauty’ or whatever, the man had kept his distance and accepted it. He requested to spend time with him still but never once pressed on it. He was genuinely interested in hearing Reyson’s stories if he wished to tell them, even if Tibarn was involved. (Which he was, almost always.)

The beorc that he’d come across were different, untouched by the bias that those who lived in Tellius. There was always a point of shock when they came across him the first time but it seemed to fade quickly into fascination rather than hatred. Which of course was unwanted, but it was far more bearable than the alternative.

Sylvain got into the car on the opposite side of the bird as Ingrid buckled in. Dorothea reached out to hold her wife’s hand momentarily before they set off. Sylvain met Reyson’s eyes.

“You need to buckle in, too. Maybe with both of these. If something happened to you while we were - “

“I assure you, I will be  _ fine.”  _ He let out a sharp breath through his nose but buckled in anyway. “I am not made of glass.” (He was.)

“Was that Claudie on the phone?” Dorothea asked after a beat.

“Yeah, he’s checking cameras and -”

Ingrid let out a loud gasp. “Is that even  _ legal?” _

“Look, I’ll cover for it if anything happens.”

“May I ask why it is you decided to bring me along, again?” Reyson’s voice cut through before Ingrid laid into Sylvain.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Your Highness. We’ll get going now.”

“Inny, you’re not at work. You don’t have to call him that.”

_ “Sylvain, _ he’s a prince!”

“I  _ am  _ a prince.”

“You’re a prince?”

Reyson almost smiled as they continued to argue with one another lightly. The left the garage and the passengers were all practically pressed against the glass of their windows hoping to find some hint of their missing persons in silence. The quiet lasted until another phone rang and Ingrid handed it over to her wife, not wanting to take her eyes off of the road.

“Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm. Wait, darling, let me put you on bluetooth so that everyone can hear you… what was that?”

“I was trying to think of places where we might find him. Does he have anywhere he frequents? Somewhere to think?” Rodrigue’s voice was shaking. It was apparent he was trying to hold himself together but failing.

“Sylvain? Any ideas?” Ingrid peered into the rearview mirror to see him, but he was still desperately watching the street.

“Uh… Felix goes and fights at this MMA gym close by, but Dimitri’s usually… He doesn’t go anywhere at night.” His hand found his hair, smoothing through it slowly. “He takes his meds at night. They make him really lethargic.”

“If he has taken them already, he mustn’t have gotten far - excuse me?” Rodrigue was cut off by some unintelligible voice, deep and far away. “Yes, I understand that my son is missing. He will turn up eventually.”

Reyson looked around the car to pinpoint exactly where the voice was coming from, and if he wasn’t quaking with a plethora of emotions Sylvain might have taken the moment to note how strange - yet kind of cute - it was how his neck seemed to jerk much more like a bird’s than a man’s.

“Do you think he hurt him? Felix, I mean. Could Dimitri hurt Felix?”

“No.” Ingrid, Sylvain, and a disembodied Rodrigue answered Dorothea’s question simultaneously.

“Darn. Then maybe he wouldn’t be at the hospital.”

“Wait, no, that’s a good idea.” Sylvain leaned forward in between the front seats, Reyson leaned as far against the window as he could as to not touch the one radiating the most unease. “If he had a lapse in reality and came back, maybe he’d want to have someone put him away before he actually hurt something. Or someone.”

“…That sounds plausible. Mr. Fraldarius, we will be checking the hospital next. Please call us back if you hear anything different.”

“Understood. We will continue checking outside of your apartment building.”

“Ooooh, it’s so late. Who’s we?”

Ingrid reached to hang up the call before anyone could answer. “Now is not the time, Thea.”

“Aw. You’re right.”

“Dedue. One of you should text Dedue.”

“Are you  _ sure  _ that’s a good idea, Outtie?”

“Already did.” Sylvain piped up, still staring out the window as though he was searching for something. “He was the turning point when Dimitri first came back to us, maybe he can help him out again. I’m confident Dimitri would have checked himself in so… I said to meet us there if possible. If anyone else can help, it’s Dedue.”

“If anyone can help him, it is  _ you.”  _ Ingrid shot another pointed glance at her friend, but her features softened as she realized there were tears in his eyes. Sylvain rarely cried, even in times like these. She’d only seen him do so a handful of times and it was impossible just to tell by his voice - he kept it steady and did not sob until he was fully lost. He was doing his best to keep his composure. Even in a car full of two of his best friends and someone that could read his mind he felt the need to pretend to be  _ just fine. _

“If I may?” It was Reyson’s turn to lean into the middle, and Sylvain did his best to give the heron room. “If he has  _ not  _ come back to his own mind, I may be able to pull him back. I am awfully tired due to this all and it would be easier with my siblings at my side. But I may be able to provide him comfort yet with a song.”

“You’re so magical, Rey!” Dorothea smiled sadly at him, trying her best to keep at least herself upbeat. “One day, I hope I’m as whimsical of a musician as you are.”

“Whimsical. Right.” He sat back,

“There’s a blanket in the trunk, maybe we can wrap Rey in it so that people won’t see his wings… Oh, if you wanted to come in of course!”

“I do. I will be able to conceal them just fine with a blanket, good idea.”

Before long, the four of them were out of the car and Dorothea had covered Reyson up. Ingrid and Sylvain raced inside first with the other two trailing behind.

They entered the hospital together and immediately a security officer held up his hands to push them back. They all gawked at the stone countertop that had been somehow pulverized, taking in the scene of shocked and hurt people in the entryway… not knowing if their injuries were related to the broken counter or not.

“Why is it torn apart like that? Isn’t that… solid rock?!” Dorothea gasped, though it answered Ingrid and Sylvain’s questions and provided a small level of comfort. At least they found  _ one of them. _

“Someone came in and really  _ rocked  _ our world!” The officer quipped, a kind smile on his face for only a moment.


	2. relying on the kindness of strangers that you will be forgiven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again trigger warning for things like Dimitri's mental health and self harm! Please don't be surprised and keep safe!

“You must put me to sleep.”

“Sir, please get back in the waiting room. Someone will be with you shortly, I’m very sorry to keep you -”

“I must be placed in isolation, and I must be sedated for others’ safety.”

“Sir, please. Calm down.”

“There is no time.” Dimitri’s voice was low, doing his best not to scare the poor receptionist too much. His hands shook, he felt so  _ cold,  _ as though the spirits he was hallucinating had broken past their barrier between reality and nightmares and were beginning to pull him down with them. He could not hear their voices clearly though part of him  _ wanted  _ to. The medication he’d been on would quell his understanding but his heart would yearn for an answer. Somewhere in his sick mind, he wanted to know what the ghosts were demanding. He wanted it to be less of a buzz and more of a battlefield.

They were owed as much. They had been killed, one by one, either in front of him or by his hand. He was a monster masquerading as a man with a history of ‘baggage,’ pretending to be normal. There was no normal. His eye that remained had seen far too much bloodshed for a boy who was not supposed to know it. He sometimes thought to dig out the other with his nails to atone for  _ something.  _ Anything. He deserved to suffer. He deserved to suffer.

No.

It was not in his power as a child to watch all those he loved to be engulfed in flames. It was not his fault that someone with political power grew angry that his father had been killed seemingly by a people who had been nothing but peaceful up until that moment. It was not his fault that the small, isolated country that somehow smelled of a past just as drenched in blood was attacked and retaliated against tenfold. It was not his fault he was only able to save a single soul in the rubble though he begged his caretaker to drive him to Duscur  _ knowing  _ they would be attacked. He did not need to shoulder the blame of arriving ‘too late,’ as there was nothing for a thirteen-year-old boy to do in matters of adults with too much power and not enough compassion.

He was told time and time again that his acts in self-defense after being kidnapped in his late teens were terrible but were again outside of his influence. He needed to be medicated to stop the hallucinations. He needed therapy to think himself away from the dark thoughts that would grip at him in times like these. Dimitri had taken a few years of isolation, of rehabilitation, of therapy, of being conditioned into some sort of ‘normal’ man who no longer bore the stains of the beast he had become after slaughtering so many.

It was a joke that he was not away for longer. There would be people who would give him reasons as to how it could be allowed, and they all seemed by the book and believable but there was no mistaking why.

He had power. Not only because of his fathers before him holding an unknown wealth for as far back as history could tell, or because of the impact his story alone had rippled through Fodlan as though he was some sort of celebrity that everyone had fallen in love with from afar.

He was _ strong.  _ They did not know what to do with him.

He was far too strong to be fully human, he thought. It made no sense, and it felt like he was told a million times that  _ ‘old magic still exists in our world. You should be thankful.’  _ Where did it come from? Why was he chosen to bear such a burden? Why was it when his friends were caught in fights, they would emerge with bruises or with cuts while he would emerge unscathed after a deluge of blood had soaked his hands without even fully clenching his hands around his victims?

How disappointing it was that he had seemingly gone back to a new normal.

He was living in an apartment with two of his closest friends. Others he knew lived only a few doors down. Dimitri was safe out of the public eye and protected by the  _ Church of Seiros _ for some reason or another. He was regularly being seen by a therapist, checking in often and working his way to find who he had become and lose the Dimitri Blaiddyd that was carved out of sorrow and seared by the flames of horror.

There were friends and eventually more. He had gone so far as to falling in love again and again, finally allowing himself to feel what he must have always felt. Dimitri was a cold-blooded monster, alive to crush skulls in his massive hands and tear bodies limb from limb without his muscles screaming about any limitations that might have kept him from doing so. But he was also a hopeless romantic, who loved terrible puns and the smell of Felix’s baking. He enjoyed music, and the sound of people laughing and the peace that came with a long night’s drive in a passenger seat as Sylvain allowed his car to half-drive itself and retell stories of times before things had gone so terribly awry. He could laugh, he could cheer as Ingrid rode atop her horse and acted out whatever skit the medieval-themed dinner theater she worked for played out for the umpteenth time.

He felt pain as he watched the first man he ever allowed himself to love build a life that did not revolve around him, as Dedue and Ashe somehow brought everyone in their little community together. There was love in his eyes not meant for Dimitri to see; he felt a bittersweet ache as though it was not meant to be yet he never wanted to see the boy he pulled from ash or the man that had seemingly sacrificed himself to get Dimitri out of the hands of people who would hurt him and failed.

Pride as he helped at the local shelters, frustration as he squeezed a doorknob too hard and bent in the metal. Warmth as Sylvain held him at night in an attempt to help him fall asleep. He did sleep with him there; he was well-rested and able to ground himself for the first time in so many years. Butterflies as they shared an awkward first kiss, embarrassment as he admitted his feelings out loud  _ first,  _ relief when it was all reciprocated.

Confusion as he met a quiet, odd stranger with bright green hair and somehow already knew their name. The feeling of inner peace he somehow achieved as he saw them smile, holding them up so that they could better see the stage at a concert. Joy as Felix smiled over at him for coming to the show at all.

Above all else, through every experience he’d been blessed with since his first moment stepping out of the psychiatric ward, Dimitri had been living the life of a  _ man.  _ As though he deserved to. As though there was still hope. He was able to reach for mindfulness and try to tear away from the reality his brain was trying to convince him was the truth. But there was still  _ hope.  _ There had to be.

Here he was, drywall still sticking to the fibers of his sleeves from pounding his hands into the wall. For cornering a ghost wearing Glenn Fraldarius’s face and having every intention of ripping it apart. Glenn was gone, and he had not seen him in  _ years.  _ He had not heard his sharp words or been on the receiving end of one of his icy glares since he was taken by flame with the rest of Dimitri’s family. So why was he there, in his  _ apartment  _ of all places? It could only be a demon pretending to be his long lost friend, his protector, lulling him into a state of security before he let his guard down and allowed it to feed on his friends.

Felix’s whimpering, of his  _ name  _ and not some insult as he usually referred to him as snapped Dimitri back into his thoughts. He blinked down at him, watching as he shivered in fear and as the horror drained Felix of all the blood in his face and made him look almost as dead as the brother he’d been hallucinating. Felix’s voice came as a whisper but resonated like a ballad to soothe him. He was every bit of a protector as his late brother. He was not there with any magic, not there with knives or his eye out on anyone who might have brought him harm.

The whimper of pure terror had come from the lips that acted as the voice of reason, one of the only voices to pierce through the wailing of the dead before he was able to finally stop the screaming. Felix’s voice was his anchor, pulling him away from the shadows and back into the light. The words may have cut like a razor at times, and there were a hundred insults for every word of praise. But Felix could not hide how he cared for him completely. He was cold, he was always so  _ angry,  _ but Dimitri could feel he loved him somewhere at his core.

Dimitri had taken that love and crushed it between his fingers like he had squeezed the life out of a man trying to use him as a bargaining chip for an incredible ransom.

Without actually hearing what the receptionist was saying, Dimitri slammed his fist onto the desk. It crumbled beneath him like the others waiting in the room, all diving to the floor in shock as though gunshots had rung through the hospital. He hated how easy it was to cut through the granite, how easy it was to separate the wood of the base. It got the point across without the need of words - he was swiftly descending into an episode where his mouth would move without his control - and he blacked out the moment he turned to face security.


	3. resolve was weakened, my tongue was tight

Sylvain blinked, confused as another rushed over to join the party. “You’re here already? I swear I  _ just  _ texted you.”

“I understand how serious this is,” Dedue noted how weird Reyson looked with a blanket around him and removed his jacket. He held it up for him, offering to put it on for him. “Here. This will look less conspicuous.”

“Thank you.” Dedue was so massive compared to him that the jacket covered Reyson’s folded wings. They were still awkward, slightly visible, but he hoped no one in the hospital at this hour would heckle him for being different. His eyes were tired and it was difficult to keep himself awake despite the bright, unnatural lights that shone in his eyes.

“Are you uncomfortable? Is it heavy?”

“No, no. This is fine. Thank you.” It was not the coat or even the lights that were pulling him down - the heron was not made for places of suffering. Not meant for an excursion like this. But it was nowhere near as taxing as war, and he knew Dimitri was a true friend, so he would fight through anything.

He let the blanket fall to the floor and Sylvain snatched it up, putting it over the jacket Reyson was now wearing casually as though it was some sort of accessory and not a way to hide that they were in the presence of some serene, elegant being.

The automatic doors opened again, and again the security officer stepped in front of the two that barreled inside. He did not keep them back for long, however, and Felix’s father was peeling into the waiting area.

“How long have you been here? Have we already been cleared to see him?” Rodrigue raced over to Dedue specifically, a very tired-looking man with an eyepatch that must have been the gruff voice before trailing behind him. “Where is he?”

“We don’t know -”

“How did you get here so fast -”

“Haar?”

“Oh, hey, Your Highness.”

Everyone stopped talking for a moment, shifting to glance at the two who apparently knew each other.

“Wait, how do you know Mr. Rodrigue’s new b-”

“We will talk about this later. Probably.” Reyson raised a hand, dismissing Dorothea’s question before it was finished.

“You, there - the man who did this, Dimitri Blaiddyd, which room is he in?” Rodrigue chased after a nurse as she emerged from a doorway.

“Sorry. We aren’t allowing visitors at this time. We will let you know what is happening as it comes, but he was only just sedated. You’ve come almost directly after…” The nurse waved her clipboard at the counter behind them. “I assume you understand how this man could do that without even using  _ tools  _ to break through that?”

Sylvain’s phone rang as he opened his mouth to speak before the rest, and he held up a finger to show that he would answer later.

“…There is no explanation, I’m afraid. He has harbored great strength since he was a boy. We believe it to be a kind of gift from the Goddess.”

“Right.” She blinked at Ingrid, still trying to make sense of it all. “He arrived only minutes ago and was not carrying any form of identification, but through basic testing, we’ve found that he has an extensive medical history. Are you his father?”

“Yes, I am,” Rodrigue answered, though she was quite obviously asking the man next to him. And he wasn’t _exactly_ his father.

“Then if you would come with me… Alone.”

Sylvain hung up the phone, a smile washing over his face as one of the final pieces of the puzzle connected. He rejoined the others in their little huddled circle, sighing as a weight was lifted off of him.

“That crafty bastard found him. He’s headed north, and Claude’s on his trail somehow - if we go now, maybe we can -”

“Sylvain, we  _ just  _ got here.”

“Dimitri would want someone to check on him! They just said we can’t see him yet. And Felix isn’t going to open any doors for anyone else _including_ you, Ingrid.” His eyebrows pulled together, then he rubbed his face in his hands in some attempt to wipe away the tears he’d cried only a bit ago. “Please understand, it has to be  _ me.  _ I have to go to him.”

“What about Annette? He would stop on a dime for her.”

“I’ve been blowing up her phone since this started.” Dorothea leaned forward to place herself into the conversation before they started arguing again, frowning deeply. “I don’t think she has it on, and it’s so late. Isn’t she one of those ‘early to rise’ types? Or do you think maybe her new boyfriend has her distracted?”

“Now?”

“At least drop me off so I can get my own car -”

“No. You’re already a terrible driver even with that… machine.” She snatched up Sylvain’s wrist, tugging him along. “We’ll find him. You’re going to talk him into coming back. Dedue, if it takes a while, can you bring Reyson home? Thanks. Thea, I'll be back as soon as I can be. Let’s go.”

“Hey -  _ ouch, stop it -  _ I can pay for Dorothea's ride if she wants to...  what if he’s -” And they were gone, disappearing behind the automatic doors yet again.

Ingrid opened the passenger door and practically tossed Sylvain in, who was still somehow being persistent with her as she entered on her own side. Despite her turning the car on and readying them to leave, which he was asking for.

“Have they always been like that?” Reyson asked Dorothea as he pulled Dedue’s coat closer to him.

“Yeeeep.”

“My apologies.”

“Aw, why? I think it’s cute. They really love each other.”

“I suppose that is true.”

“Is it truly in Dimitri’s best interest that Sylvain leaves now?” Dedue’s voice was steady, but even those without the ability to read his mind could see that he was uneasy.

“He’ll be back, big guy. Don’t worry.”

“I am confident Dimitri  _ would  _ want someone to look after his friend. He has a selfless heart, even if it is wounded by his sadness. And I know that she is right. The boy feels pulled in many directions but his priority was to be sure Dimitri was in good hands. He saw that you were here, along with… Rodrigue, and his mind calmed almost immediately.”

“Were you reading his mind this whole time, Rey?”

“Unfortunately."


	4. my heart it pounds now like it's trapped inside

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok this is the hard one please be SAFE

“Dimitri is your  _ romantic partner.  _ If I have to pick up your mess after he has a  _ relapse,  _ Sylvain.”

“You’re making it sound like I don’t love him.”

“I… I know you do. I’m sorry.” She gripped at the wheel, not looking him in the eye. “But with how on edge everyone is, and how difficult this time may be… what Felix might be feeling, it's so much. I’m afraid of you making a poor decision. You tend to make those.”

“Oh, it's so good when you hurt me. Give me more. I liked it." 

"Never. _Never_ talk to me like that again."

Ingrid wouldn’t say out loud that she knew, that she almost believed Sylvain and Felix loved each other more than Sylvain loved Dimitri. She was afraid of voicing her opinion on their relationships as it was unkind for her to accuse Sylvain of all people of settling and found it unnecessary the more she witnessed the couple together. If someone would have told her years before they would be such a good fit she would have laughed. But they were somehow absolutely compatible and complimented each other so lovingly. However, now they were in such a delicate situation…

“Bring Felix home as soon as you can. And I better see you at the hospital come tomorrow morning.” Ingrid glanced down at the clock and saw the time, letting out a sigh. “I’ll cover for you if you don’t make it until later in the day. Don’t mess it up too bad.”

“I…” He understood exactly what she was saying, and it could’ve broken his heart. He couldn’t use Felix as an outlet for his frustration, and it would be unfair to Dimitri to pursue his friend while he was being  _ put away from such a traumatic regression.  _ Even if they had agreed to allow Felix into their relationship if he so desired, it wasn’t  _ fair.  _ He should be there to tell him, too. Sylvain couldn’t allow himself to take advantage of anyone sexually anymore either -  _ especially  _ not the people he loved most. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. I promise.”

He got out of the car, waving at Ingrid in thanks once again for driving so far and so quickly. They found Felix stopped in a parking lot almost a two hours drive north of the hospital, finally stopped to properly hold a cigarette as he lit it. He was so preoccupied with his thoughts that he must not have even noticed them following.

She waited to see Sylvain knock on Felix’s window and to watch their friend almost burn himself on his lighter. It took another several knocks, but Felix seemingly unlocked the door to let the redhead in. She sighed, praying she’d done the right thing before peeling away to race back to the hospital, calling her wife as she did so, hoping that she could still do  _ something  _ to help the poor wayward Dimitri though she never truly knew how to help him anymore.

“What do you want?” Felix rasped at his friend, refusing to look over at him and show that his eyes were red and puffy from crying for several hours.

Sylvain didn’t answer and rested a hand on his shoulder instead.

“He put himself away. You don’t have to run anymore.”

He tensed up immediately. Why the fuck did he open with _that?_

“It’s okay if you were crying. I won’t watch if you need to keep going.”

“Shut  _ up,” _ Felix choked, then put his cigarette out on his own wrist. He hissed at the pain, balling his hand into a fist and clenching his teeth as he watched the flesh singe and the ash fall to his jeans. It hurt. A lot. He shouldn’t have done so in front of his best friend, and he regretted it almost immediately. He wasn’t thinking clearly and was doing everything he could to fight back the tears that were begging to fall. He couldn’t loo weak. He couldn’t afford to let Sylvain know how much his boyfriend’s episode shook him. He needed to feel in control, he needed to feel strong somehow and it was the first thing that came to mind but not the first time it had happened that night.

He almost was… contented at Sylvain’s silence. It happened too fast for him to say anything, and he knew grabbing at his friend would do more harm than good after whatever Dimitri did. It would come up later. If he ever did it again, Sylvain would likely shout at him. Oh goddess, was he crying now too? No. He was fine. He’d get over it. Just like Felix himself would. “I wasn’t crying. I’m fine.”

“Please don’t hurt yourself anymore. May I have your lighter?”

“Fuck off.”

“Right. Okay.”

There were several minutes of nothing but the occasional suppressed hiccup from the driver’s seat. Sylvain was terrified of opening his mouth and ruining something, Felix was afraid of opening his own and letting a sob rack through his body.

“You don’t have to come home, just… please. Let me have that.” Sylvain held his hand out, still not looking over at Felix in case their eyes met and he cracked. Even twenty-odd years into their friendship, even with Sylvain, Felix had trouble with eye contact. Sylvain felt the metal of the lighter press into his hand and slipped it into his pocket without drawing any more attention to it - at least glad he could take away what he knew was Felix’s favorite way to cause himself pain.

_ “Now _ what do you want. I’m not driving back there. I’m not… even going to look at  _ pictures  _ of it. Ever again.”

“I’ll look and see if there are any hotels in the area.”

Felix’s neck whipped and he stared disapprovingly at his passenger. “If he’s put away, why aren’t you there? You’re not planning on staying the night away from him, are you? What kind of boyfriend are you now? Getting back on track to being a goddamn playboy or something again? What’s _wrong with you?”_

“What would you have done tonight if I didn’t come?”

“None of your business.”

“Exactly.” Sylvain’s eyes were so sad that if Felix looked directly at him, he would’ve broken down further. He wouldn’t answer that question, not ever. It was a blessing that someone cared to find him at all. He wouldn’t have expected any of his own family to show up, for Ingrid to find him, for anybody else to put Felix above Dimitri. But Sylvain coming felt _wrong,_ it should have been someone else. Though somewhere deep within him he knew it did have to be his best friend. There weren't many others he'd allow in his car during a moment like this. He probably wouldn't have ever unlocked the door. “He would want someone to make sure you’re alright. So that you…”

A moment of silence came after that, as neither of them wanted to elaborate further.

“…there’s a motel three miles down this road. You’ll have to at least drop me off by the apartment tomorrow morning, but I can give you a few days if you need it. I can try to come back at night, too.”

There was no reply. Felix did start the car, however - and went in the direction Sylvain was pointing. There was no denying that he was spent from all of his crying. His hands shook as he tried to keep the wheel steady, and he could feel his friend’s gaze on him. Tears welled in his eyes at the weight of it. But he wouldn’t cry. He had to hold firm. He had to keep going. Pain would make him stronger. He needed to be stronger.

The motel was easy enough to find and surprisingly not dingy for being so out of the way. Sylvain went in alone to check them in and got back in the car with his hands full, directing Felix where to park. Once he did so and they were able to get in, they entered and flipped on the light.

“This is wrong. We have to go.”

“What? Felix, how many times have we shared a bed? Come here, stop being weird. It's all they had."

He had grabbed a handful of bandages from the front desk clerk, and despite Felix’s protest, Sylvain had his hands in the other’s. He directed him to sit at the foot of the bed with him, situating himself and getting as comfortable as he could.

Muttering some words beneath his breath, Sylvain placed his massive hand over the wrist that had the most damage from Felix’s night alone. It glowed, warm and loving, and he pulled away to leave the wound over half-healed.

“Not bad.” Felix didn’t _want_ him to heal the burns. He didn’t want his attention at all, he didn’t want to be touched; being this close to him was overwhelming and wonderful and terrible all at once. But he had to admit it was impressive how much better he was getting at this all of a sudden.

“Stop wiggling.” He dressed the wound, then awkwardly bent down to place a kiss on the bandage.

“The hell are you doing?” Felix yanked his arm away.

“Kissing it better! It’s part of the magic. Is it working?”

“Mouth to yourself, idiot. What are you, eight?”

“I’m a ten, thank you.”

Felix shot him a pointed gaze. It did help with a tiny degree of the tension, however - and his breathing had finally steadied. Once he had composed himself enough to say something that wasn’t an insult he leaned over to nudge Sylvain, breaking him out of whatever line of thought he’d lost himself in.

“You're his  _ boyfriend _ **.  ** You should be with him.” Felix reached for the keys in his coat pocket as if he would leave. As if he could ever abandon Sylvain.

“You're my  _ best  _ friend, and I'm not going anywhere tonight.”

Sylvain wrapped his arms around him awkwardly as they sat at the foot of the bed, not letting him continue looking for his keys. Felix's eyes screwed shut as he forced his tears back. He couldn't handle being hugged. He needed to let go. He needed to be closer. He needed to get away.

“…Did he hurt you, Fe?” He whispered the question, afraid of the answer.

“No.”

He relaxed a bit but didn’t break the embrace.

“He wouldn’t hurt me. I know that. He was looking  _ through  _ me like I wasn’t even there.” Felix’s eyes screwed shut and a tear fell from his cheek. “It’s stupid. I shouldn’t be scared of him. I know he’s messed up, and that he tries. But he’s so obsessed with ghosts that he’s seeing them everywhere again. I don’t know if there’s any bringing him back from his twisted delusions in times like this. I don’t know if I can do this anymore.”

“Healing isn’t linear. We have all dropped down and gotten back up again over and over.” Sylvain’s voice was the one thing keeping Felix’s heart from bursting out of his chest. He listened to it as though it was scripture, even if he’d heard this plenty of times before. “There’s still hope. It will take… a  _ while. _ But he’s still in there.”

“I suppose you would know.” Felix knew too, though he’d never admit. He loved the man that was trapped beneath the delusions, the accidental violence, the restlessness, the sorrow. It was exhausting to keep chipping away at him, finally exposing his potential only to have it locked away by a violent outburst again. It was like he was a dog tied to a post, and someone was holding a plate of meat just out of his reach. He knew he was an idiot for running toward it every time, but the reward great outweighed the risk. Even if he ended up choking himself on the way there. “What if just loving him isn’t enough.”

“It isn’t.”

“Then what’s the point?”

Sylvain didn’t know how to answer him. He felt, somewhere in a place he wouldn’t allow himself to see, exactly what Felix was saying. But seeing him grow from a state he could almost only describe as  _ feral  _ to laughing at the dinner table and blushing at a compliment gave him hope. Witnessing him around Reyson, who he had openly admitted to being enamored with, being as gentle as he possibly could and trying to learn about his people and his harp... never once pressing him for a relationship despite the agreement that their own was open was enough for Sylvain to hold onto hope. There was more to him yet. He was still stubborn, still dense as a rock - he still had the heart of a lion and the resilience of a saint. It just needed time to grow back into being more than just who he was at his center.

“He wouldn’t give up on either of us if we were in that situation.”

“Stop speaking for him, you’re not his handler.”

“I will if you stop calling him an animal.”

“It’s what he is, Sylvain. Do you not see it?” His nostrils flared and his eyes narrowed and burned hot like whiskey, tears and snot both staining his face as it crumpled in disgust. “He’s… part of him  _ enjoys  _ that strength he's got. Part of him  _ wants  _ to rip people apart. It’s deep within him, but he is enjoying it when he hurts people. When he cornered me like I was prey. There’s no fixing that with holding hands in a circle and shoving pills down his throat. We're delaying the inevitable. He's going to snap one day and we're going to be powerless against him.”

“Are you sure about that?” Sylvain didn’t want to speak after him but felt obligated to. Both as Dimitri’s friend and as Felix’s - he didn’t deserve to believe someone that loved him as deeply as Dimitri did would ever take satisfaction in doing this to him. “Have you not been living beneath him this past year?”

“He can cry and ‘atone’ all he wants. It doesn’t stop the fact he’s having a damn  _ blast  _ when he’s tearing things apart.”

“Fe…” It wasn’t entirely true. It wasn’t entirely a lie. Dimitri had confided in him before, that he was almost… happy when he broke out of the chains his kidnappers had him in and ripped out a man’s throat. Dimitri had refused to touch Sylvain for months, terrified of what his hands could do. Tainted by the blood that stained them. They weren’t meant for love, to give pleasure - they were meant for taking lives and breaking things that were precious to him.

Of course, that wasn’t true. And when they finally began to become intimate he proved that it was wrong. Sylvain felt a lump in his throat as he recalled the tears of joy Dimitri shed in the middle of a quiet moan and the way he laughed at himself after their first time together. How foolish he was for ever thinking he would be unable to express how much he cared with his body. He remembered pulling away the patch from his eye and kissing the scars along his empty socket, how tightly and carefully he held his lover. Dimitri was so afraid to put his hands on him, but Sylvain trusted him. The trust brought more pleasure than he could’ve ever asked for, and Dimitri would say he did not deserve it. It was the best sex Sylvain ever had.

How could someone so beautiful, so incredibly gentle, so  _ passionate  _ not be meant for love?  
How could someone who fell in so love with everyone he met be a monster? How could someone who cared for others who would never reciprocate his feelings yet demand nothing in return be destined to be  _ feral?  _ How could this man who spent the money left for his father paying for children to go to school, to feed the hungry, to be sure they had a place to stay be so heartless? How could someone so passionate about making it to group therapy sessions to ease the others' pain through his incredible gift of empathy not bounce back from such a terrible night? How could a man who begged to be sedated to save others lose himself to violence?

“W-we won’t lose him again after this.” The quiver in his voice pierced Felix’s heart. “We can’t.”

“He’s never… He’s not…” He shook his head aggressively, unable to stop the flooding of tears or to form a coherent thought. “When is he… I can’t…I won't give up, but... I...”

The instinct to hug him overtook Sylvain again, and he pulled him in tight. Felix finally shattered in his arms, clinging to him tightly as though he was afraid that Sylvain would turn to sand between his fingers. Sobs rocked his already tired body and he was unable to keep himself sitting up. He was limp in Sylvain’s arms, completely losing himself as he wailed as though he was mourning for him a second time. Sylvain ran his hands through Felix's hair when he ended up curled in his lap, calming the both of them simultaneously.

“Vee,” his voice cracked. Felix hadn’t used that nickname since they were tiny. He made it to counter Sylvain’s ‘Fe,’ something special for the two of them to share like he wanted to share everything. It pulled a tiny sob out of Sylvain though it was hardly noticeable. “Promise me you won’t leave tonight. Don’t make me be alone.”

“I didn’t even drive here, Ing-”

_ “Promise me.” _

“I promise.”

“I need you.” He better appreciate Felix being exhausted enough to admit it, even as a whisper, because he likely never would again.

“I’m never leaving you to be alone. I promise."

"Don't give up on him, either. He needs you too."

"I never will."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for stopping by! <3


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